there are buds beginning to ripen and burst all over my neighborhood. from the forsythias on my block, to the peach tree that belongs to that sweet old man on warner street who offered me fruit from his harvest when i first moved here, there’s been a little more life around these parts over the last few days.
i’ve had a lot of life around me for the last week. last wednesday some of the people i love best spent an evening with me over cocktails and/or steak fries in celebration of my birthday. last saturday some more of the people i love best helped me fill my house with laughter and food and plenty of good cheer. and on sunday i spent the day drawing with crayons and eating dinner mints with an almost-six year old who showed off his brand new tooth and proclaimed that if he were president, he’d help people avoid foreclosure.
after staying late at work for a few days in a row, i decided i was entitled to leave a mere half-hour late today. i took the opportunity of arriving in my neighborhood while it was still 80 degrees and sunny to explore a bit. tried on a marvelous peach dress that broke my heart when i found it was made for someone two inches shorter and fifteen pounds lighter. sipped a thai iced tea at diesel cafe, the place that made me feel least like a transplant when i first moved here. walked by signs heralding microbrews, the red sox, and a dozen types of homemade ravioli at the corner bar, and smiled to myself thinking about my plans for tomorrow: d. and c. make ravioli, la troisième fois (est la bonne?). moseyed home in my flip-flops. leftover gazpacho, day three — still just as good, this time with a dollop of sour cream on top, while i sat in my room and watched the daylight fade into a warm spring night.
this is my favorite time of year for a reason.